My Nightmare You Become
by veldrinxx
Summary: Imoen has always felt "more" for her sister than just sibling love. Little did she know that not only will she be forced to suffer the pains of unrequited love, but also endure the pain of watching her sister fall for someone else.
1. Chapter 1

Well, hell, here we are, sitting like a merry group, drinking heartily and regaling each other with humorous anecdotes of deeds long passed. My eyes travel from face to face, I watch them all with a pleased little smile pasted on my lips. And despite I know them, each and every face is so familiar to me, I search throughoutly, looking for something to hold on. There is one person, I do not look upon. I cannot look upon, unless I want to feel desire mixed with guilt and short stabs of pain. Unrequited love. Gods, how I hate the word, unrequited. It is the most disgusting, humiliating word ever existed, filled with such bitterness and despair that even thinking it arouses this terrible taste in my mouth.

I tune back in, I cannot fall out of focus. This night is a night of mirth and I have a face to uphold. Imoen the cheerful. That's me.

'So, tell me, master Sarevok, how does it feel to alive - again?' as he speaks those words, his face is full of badly concealed smugness. Edwin Odesseiron, the greatest wizard yet to become, will never die and never ask to be brought back to life.

'Mind your own issues, enchanter.' Sarevok is huge, every part of him is buldging muscles and hard bones underneath a dark skin. His face is permanently grim. The dim light of the inn's lamps reflects on his bald head.

'Men. Always so eager to compete, either by a weapon or by the size of their organ. Aren't they pathetic?' Viconia's eyes narrow, her smirk is all but slight. I always watch her compelled, for she is a wonder, with fair hair and smoldering dark skin of a drow. She holds herself proud and straight. Her blood red dress underlines the beauty of her form. I smile at her.

'Well, indeed.' I answer with false mirth. I dare not to look on myself, so instead my eyes slides upon Coran, who's handsome face is split by a broad grin.

'And the ladies, so fair but so cruel to judge!' he exclaims 'Laura, aren't we a team so spectacular that one might collapse simply from laughing too much?'

He speaks the forbidden name and my world comes crumbling down. I force myself not to look, but my instincts - oh my masochism, may the gods curse me for weakness! - take hold and so I stare at the miracle I am seeing.

The miracle who also happens to be my sister.

I grew up with her. I always treated her like a sister - a fact I knew not of at this time - and she meant all the world to me. Little did I know, that Gorion's death and then the race against Sarevok would bond us even further and that upon our departure, we would be abducted by thugs hired by a evil mage, which is another factor that led me into falling in love with her!

My heart races, my hands sweat profusely and my brain starts swirling around. The world turns gray and fades away, the only bright form is Her. By gods, how lovely can one be without being struck down by some jealous force?

Her hair is deep red, the color of wine mixes delicately with rich brown, and those crimson curls fall heavily upon her shoulders and below, barely above her shoulder blades, their smoothness causes light to slide and glitter. Her skin is porcelain white, scars which cover her arms are invisible - only sharp light uncovers them. Her eyes are dark green, shaped like almonds and surrounded by the thickest and longest eyelashes I have ever seen, pure charcoal that contrasts with her pearl skin. And her nose, straight and small, her lips, the fullest, reddest lips on Toril, lips that twitch and quiver gently, lips marked with irony that twists their corners (oh she always looks as if she was smirking, maybe she is, nobody knows what is going on in Laura's head), lips made to be claimed and lips that can bring over the edge. She is all iron, tall and slender, agile and deadly, playful and insane, corageous and full of malice, vicious but gentle, loyal but remorseless, graceful but monstrous...

Imoen, snap back. I slap myself mentally over the face. She throws me a look, her eyebrow gently rises (oh those eyebrows, eyebrows sculpted to strike with irony and frown with anger); for an instant, she seems to be worried, and then the moment is gone. Her eyes lock with Coran's.

'I guess many have already perished in our wake.' she says with the smallest of smiles 'I suppose it's all Volo's work.'

'Ah yes, surprising though,' he winks at her, their friendship so obvious and so firm 'I always believed it had to do with Alaundo.'

'Might say so' she laughs 'as for such a pamphlet has never been seen before.'

They all laugh, even Viconia shares their joy.

It had been hard, those previous months brought upon us anguish and exhaustion. We emerged scarred and weary, but finally successful. Now had the days of easy everyday life arrived. So instead of heading for D'Arnise Keep, where Laura was the lady, we ended up in Copper Coronet, every now and then making plans for things to do in a distant future. Today one was of those days, as strange gossips had already begun to spread. Whispered word carried the news of assembling armies and strange omens appearing in remote places - but to be honest, we payed no heed to them, busy with drinking and taking leisure time.

There are six of us at the moment, Laura, yours humble myself, Sarevok, Viconia, Edwin and Coran. More friends were about to arrive any day soon, we were eager to meet them and share tales of adventure and silliness.

'So, did y'all hear of the bleeding virgin?' Coran asks, playing with mug.

'Oh many times, ya know, it happens to every single one every month.' my sister answers casually.

Another outburst of laughter.

'Nay' he says in mock serious tone 'This one apeared on the sky.'

'No, really?' Laura pushes her hair off her face 'That's random. What did she do? Moan and hold her womb?'

'Uh-oh, as for the blood came from her eyes.'

'Disgusting! Wouldn't that be a common plague-to-come apparition? Edwin?'

'Uh! The Red Wizards do not bother with such nonsense as omens!' mage barks sharply and tugs on his robe.

'Pity, it provides so much fun. Remember the cows that developed iron hooves and breathed fire? Oh, now this heat thing made me thirsty.' Laura launches herself upwards, all her movements are extremely fast and heavenly fluid, it's like watching a cat or flames. 'Anyone, anything?'

'It would seem that the ale's ran out.' Sarevok looks into his mug and shakes his head.

'Ah, so that would make a next round?' Laura smiles at him and then, suddenly, all the joy from her face vanishes, her features sharpen. We all turn.

A corpse pale woman clad in black leather hovers towards us.

A vampire.


	2. Chapter 2

A vampire!

Suddenly I feel very sober and very worried. The incomer lifts her hand, a common gesture of peace which would make us all at ease, if it hadn't come from an undead monster. I look at Laura and see her nod towards the vampire. Instantly, I wonder whether somehow they know each other. Funnily enough, even in moments of peril, I can still be capable of feeling the stabs of jealousy. Pathetic, really.

'Greetings. My name is Monova.' Says the vampire. Her voice is all even and flat. It sounds as if it was coming from underground.

'Greetings to you.' Laura answers calmly, her face is a mask of marble, only her eyes are watchful. Her hand gently moves and comes to rest upon her belt. 'What would you want?'

'I carry a word. From a friend we both know.' The vampire is also on her guard. 'I fear though' her eyes travel around the room 'that this is not the best of places for such business to conduct.'

'Business indeed?' Laura frowns slightly 'Would that be turnip sale or slaughtering a guild?' her words and proud and sharp. 'For if you came here thinking about the latter, I believe you made a mistake.'

'Ah no, neither I must say.' The vampire face is expressionless, she looks truly dead 'That is why I came looking for you. '

'Fine.' My sister nods curtly 'Where do you want to meet?'

'If only you could assist me to the Graveyard District. Alone.'

We all rise as one.

'This is really a stupid way to spring a trap.' Coran remarks sarcastically.

'This is no trap.' The vampire shifts, suddenly I feel a wave of emotions flooding from her. No, these are not emotions, these only are crude and cruel instincts, bestial instincts. The fear and the hatred of a monster. I glare at Laura. I see her spring into action, grasp her Celestial Fury and strike this beast down. And I slump. She nods once more. Then she looks at us, her eyes are commanding and sharp.

'Do not think of following. Do not think of casting some spells on me. I will return. This is an order.' She says in a cold, off-handed voice. And then she departs, walks calmly after the abomination, walks at apparent ease and all we can do is stare at her with mouths hanging wide-open.

'Did- did you see _that_?' it's Coran who bursts out first 'She – she just walked with _that_! What the Nine Hells?'

'Maybe she's been enchanted?' Sarevok asks in a low, concerned voice 'She's anything but stupid.'

'No, she's reckless above all things.' Viconia adds in 'But since she'll know if we've done any spellcasting and be able to figure out if one stalks after her, we'd better…_obey_…' the word comes out of her mouth with obvious discomfort ' and wait for her. If she doesn't return in-'

'She'll be dead then!' Coran cuts her sharply 'Luck be a lady, woman, we cannot leave her just like that!'

'Now, just because I _listen _to Laura does not entitle YOU to order me around or to call me a _woman _in such tone!' she snarls at him.

The upheaval hangs in the air. I ought to do something. And so I surprise myself by bursting in tears. I sob and sob and feel ridiculous and they all just _look_ at me, with a distaste in their eyes that I want to shrivel and disappear.

'Right.' Sarevok says somewhat hesitantly. He locks eyes with Viconia and nods 'I believe you're right.'

'But!' saliva flies from Coran's mouth as he spits his anger out.

'She is the leader. And we must obey.' Sarevok stands up and stretches, his form is so large that it blocks the light. Through my tear-filled eyes I can see the other patrons staring at him with alarm. His silver tunic stretches on his chest as he thrusts his arms backwards, the joints crack and he shudders. 'Let's have some ale, shall we?'

It's past three, the sun ought to be rising soon, I slump over my chair, dizzy and little sick from the tones of alcohol I absorbed. Bernard has tried everything to usher us to our rooms, but then he ran out of ideas and gave in. 'Just don't think of breaking into the cellar for more ale.' He warned us, his fat finger trembling as some unknown disease once more manifested its slow ascension upon the man. We nodded our get lost and eventually I cast _Knock_ upon the cellar doors so that Sarevok could carry a barrel out. His dagger plunged a hole in the wood, ale began to flow freely but as the level of ale grew lower than the whole, it stopped and we had to tilt the whole barrel.

'Ugh.' Coran moans, and holds his stomach 'Man can drink so much… I never knew…' even though he's drunk, he manages to speak clearly, maybe that's another elven trait that flows through his body? For instance, Laura's extremely hard to intoxicate… Laura! I stand up, slip over the cold wet stones and fall over and under the table. As I hit my ass on the floor, I hear the terrible clangor of a breaking chair. Gods! I sit on the floor, suddenly numb from pain. Don't tell me I've just broken my leg. Don't tell me I've just broken something else. Oh gods. A night is the best part of the day, they say. Idiots.

'Whaa areyah doin'? Silly g-g-git?' I hear Edwin's moan from somewhere up above.

's 'bout er.' I manage to say.

'Ah yeas, the faizest maidn, lady Elleese… Ellesayme… Ellisimee… 'ze elf.' Here comes Edwin's brilliant response.

I find myself dumbfounded. Slowly and carefully, I lay my back on the hard, stone floor. It feels good, the hard and level surface underneath me is the only thing in the whole Universe which is stable and safe. I close my eyes. Yes, I am worried sick, but also drunk and insanely in love with her. Memories begin to flow freely, I am overpowered by them.

_The road that leads north, to the Friendly Arm Inn, is surrounded by sparse woods. It is gently winding every now and then, but none of these turns are sharp, it reminds me of a river running slowly through lowlands. Laura and I are walking in silence. Birds are chirping joyfully, the Sun is warm and the air smells of spring. As noon approaches, it gets warmer and warmer. I can feel a small streak of sweat flowing down my neck. I look around, still uneasy by the events of previous night: sneaking out of Candlekeep after Gorion and Laura, venturing through thick shrub, only to catch the yells and buzzing of a short battle. Then finding Laura, sprawled on her stomach, hidden in bushes and tear-streaked, and finding out that Gorion had been killed. _

_She senses this and suddenly turns around, her face sad but not alert. _

'_Ya know' she starts slowly 'I'm so grateful that you…' she clears her throat, tension stirring behind her eyes 'Gods, Im!' she exclaims 'What would I do without you?'_

_She's only seventeen. Dressed in a plain gray tunic that ends just in the middle of her thighs and high boots, with her hair tucked behind her head, she looks vulnerable and weary. I lay my hand on her shoulder and suddenly something hits me: as my skin makes contact with her body, sparks fly. This is odd, I draw back and she looks disappointed._

'_I'm sorry.' She says and turns back. 'Let's go, shall we?'_

_Then we arrive at a crossroad. The road splits, one part runs north, the other south, the choice is between the Inn and Beregost. I open my mouth just to suggest, for a laugh and sheer pleasure of being rebellious, that we head towards the latter, when Laura's hand falls upon my lips. _

'_Shush!' she orders me in a sharp whisper 'We're not alone.' She mouths at me. _

'_Aye ladies.' Four men, four foul looking and retching men, appear from the surrounding bushes. One of them is clad in studded leather armor, with a long sword and a small shield in his hands. His companions are armed poorly, nevertheless, I feel my heart beating frantically against my ribcage. My hands are sweating._

'_Whatcha doin', pretty u'ns?' his accent is thick and his grin repulsive. 'Na, we ain't common mugge's, so dontcha fret. Ha!' his grin spreads even wider as he looks on Laura's form. I can see it now, sickly, wet and disgusting lust, radiating from his eyes. He licks his lips 'Them damse's in distress, we ain't goin' to killya. Jus' give us our iron an' some gratidue.' His eyes drown in her, his motives plain. I can see them, his actions. He will hold her, throw her on the ground, spread her legs, lift her tunic and ravish her, ravish until he satiates his lust. This very thought momentarily drives me to fury. I'd rather die, I rather rip his throat out with my very teeth. I want blood. _

_Out of the corner of my eye, I look at her, my sister. Her face is as impassive as a mask._

'_How very valiant of you.' She says cooly. 'You see, though, there is one minor drawback.'_

'_Watcha-' he starts and then chokes. Her blade cuts his throat, as if in slow motion, I see it, the spreading gush and fountain of blood that flies upwards. We all freeze for a second, and she moves in for the kill. The clatter of iron clashing with iron, snaps us back to reality. I grasp my bow, aim for a shot, but my hands tremble and I can't. One of them is charging, I see his Morningstar, rising in the air, spiky and deadly. I am frozen, I can't move, only watch my oncoming death. He is one step before me and suddenly his staggers, a sword tip emerges from his chest, blood oozes. Laura is standing behind him, her face a mask of wrath. _

'_Watch out!' I scream, as a dagger, protruded out of thin air, flies in her direction. The last bandit makes a wild throw and the blade pierces Laura's side. Suddenly she falls on her knees, and then on all fours. She opens her mouth and this rasp escapes her lips, this rasp suddenly calms my hands. I aim and send an arrow at him. It hits him right on the chest, he yells and topples backwards. I don't know whether he's dead or just wounded, I throw my bow aside and run to my sister. There is blood, running from her mouth, she wheezes, chokes and spits. _

'_Hells.' She mutters and then loses her consciousness. _


End file.
